


Alone Time

by DMichelleWrites



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Married Life, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 13:57:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9494570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DMichelleWrites/pseuds/DMichelleWrites
Summary: After work, Oliver and Felicity want to use the Arrow Cave for some other nightly activities, even though it's early morning. However, Dig who's been having some minor problems with Lyla, is also there. Will the Queens eventually have the room to themselves?





	

( _Originally via 510 "Who Are You?"_ )

Star City has been in an odd torrential downpour, which for Spring is very rare. The weather has lightened up over the past few days, yet rain makes another appearance. Droplets of water pitter patter rapidly atop the Queens' umbrellas. Oliver and Felicity are standing at the pier, looking over at the new statue of the Green Arrow. It's replacing the godawful one of the Black Canary - that chunk of cement looked absolutely nothing like their Laurel. Still, Felicity's aware that her husband is none too pleased about a statue in his honor.

Eyes flitting over to his wife, Oliver remarks, "I still don't think I deserve all of this."

"You never do," Felicity notes, casting him a patent glare over her glasses.

"Yeah, but 'Green Arrow Day' seems a bit too narcissistic. Why not Team Arrow day, or why not no day at all?"

Sighing heavily, she reminds, "Barry has a Flash Day. Hell, Barry has a Flash museum dedicated in his honor near City Hall in Central City."

"This isn't about competing with Barry. It's just Green Arrow Day is right after International Refugee Day. People could see this as disrespectful, Felicity."

Her heels clack against the wooden planks as they saunter off to their Range Rover.

"International Refugee Day is on May 9th. That's a whole week before your birthday. Ever since the world found out about the Green Arrow's true identity, the president wanted to do something to commemorate you, Oliver. She flew in all the way from National City just to be here for today."

Madame President Susan Brayden, who took office after an attack on the former Commander-in-Chief subsequently following the Dominators' not-so peaceful visit, and Star City Mayor Oliver Queen, have an excellent rapport. Granted, they don't always see eye-to-eye. She even went as far to suggest that Oliver throw his hat in the ring for Washington Senator and later Washington Representative when his term as mayor ends in 2018. Their doors fall shut with a couple of snicks as the Queens' bodyguards Dwayne and Gracie get in the front seats.

His brow furrows deeper in opposition to all this praise.

"What if citizens look at me like I'm former President Darren John Turner?"

Madame President Brayden's successor was a white, stodgy, old man. He acted more like a neo-nazi than a fair and just leader of the American nation, so when Susan Brayden upheld office, she's enacted a lot of beneficial change for immigrants' rights, maternity leave, Planned Parenthood, student loan forgiveness, and more.

Felicity reassures, hand blanketing his, "Oliver, my love, I think your approval ratings and charity events show otherwise. You really do deserve it. Besides, today's your birthday."

"That statue is a little off. Seriously, what was with that comic book-eque Van Dyke goatee?" Oliver wonders, his face crumpling indignantly.

"Mmm, they could've done a better job." His wife concurs, fire engine red lips pursing at the thought when she mentions, "They totally missed the mark on your muscle definition. I mean, you're a literal superhero - not Robin Hood."

"Aww, Honey." His pillowy lips tick up in a soft smile, interlacing their fingertips together, "I wouldn't be a hero with you, John, or Thea by my side."

That sentiment earns him a chaste kiss on the lips. Although, it soon grows much more passionate. Felicity's long maroon coat greets one of Oliver's favorite navy pea coats in an instant. Their hand hold becomes tighter than before. Oliver loves the slight pricking from the gems on her engagement ring and wedding band against his calloused palm. Her free hand errantly travels up to her husband's broad shoulder, squeezing it tightly. Their lips never part, almost as if they're breathing in the same air. His tongue snakes in her mouth, craving so much more. If this Range Rover has a partition, Dwayne and Gracie certainly would have closed it by now. However, the first couple of Star City is dead set against the use of limousines, especially considering their horrific history with them. Their lips collide against each other in a hot frenzy until the unfortunate need for oxygen becomes too great. Both their azure eyes slip shut, and their noses nuzzle over one another in an adorable Eskimo kiss. Puffs of air dance over their mouths.

Dwayne interrupts with a loud clear of his throat, addressing Felicity deferentially, "Where to, Mrs. Queen?"

"Home, ma'am?" Gracie guesses with a cheeky, knowing grin as she tucks a tendril of a raven curl behind her ear.

"No," Felicity denies with a giggle, suggesting, "I believe we need to head over to Mayor Queen's old campaign office."

Oliver's eyebrows arch in surprise, "We do?"

"Yes," His wife confirms, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

Still, her husband worries, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Felicity promises, accentuating the word sharply, "I just have something I forgot to pick up in the Arrow Cave."

He cringes at term, noting, "I prefer to call it The Foundry, lair, or bunker."

"Give it time." She states, patting his thigh, "It'll grow on you."

Wordlessly, Oliver presses a short smooch to her forehead in response. Their car comes to a stop in a vacant parking lot.

"Alrighty then," Dwayne announces, putting the car in park, "Here we are."

The bodyguard pulls up his hoodie in the camel colored trench, protecting his salt and pepper hair. Gracie follows suit, covering her locks with an ornate cotton cerulean scarf. They both open the Queens' doors with umbrellas waiting overhead.

"Oh, Dwayne, Gracie, we could've done that ourselves." Felicity acknowledges, offering the pair an appreciative grin, "You guys are gonna get all soaked."

Oliver continues, "Yeah, we're not completely helpless."

"All a part of the job, ma'am." Gracie reminds, dutifully holding Felicity's umbrella as Dwayne holds Oliver's as well, "We don't mind, especially when it's for a couple as sweet as you two."

"My thoughts exactly." Dwayne says, inquiring, "Mrs. Queen, shall we wait for you both in the car?"

"Um... Why don't you and Gracie take an early lunch break?" Their boss requests hesitantly, tacking on, "and then maybe a drive around the block."

"Hmm..?" Her husband wonders, looking rather confused, "What for?"

Dwayne starts, "Ma'am, we can't just..."

Leave our post. For most politicians and their spouses, leaving the couple unattended would be completely ludicrous. But Oliver and Felicity are more than capable of handling themselves should danger ever arise. In truth, Dwayne and Gracie were hired as integral players in the Queens' security detail when Oliver and Felicity couldn't reach a certain hunter green super super, quiver, arrows, or any other high-tech gadgets. They are trusted friends. Dwayne is an old friend of Dig's, former Army sergeant under John's command. He is an adamant believer in the fact that being in the armed forces never leaves you, and Dwayne sure is one Hell of a sharp shooter. Gracie is a friend of Tina's, an old co-worker of hers, who made quite a name for herself in the special victims' unit at SCPD. She can take a pimp down faster than anyone could say 'Don't move!'.

"Gotcha, boss." Gracie notes with a subtle wink, ushering her colleague back to the car, "We'll be back in an about an hour or so. Just give us a ring if you need us."

Dwayne protests as if he's a petulant toddler, "But _Pearson_!"

" _Colson_!" She snaps back in return, whispering something inaudible in the older man's ear.

The crows' feet around the man's striking green eyes crinkle as realization dawns upon him. Felicity blushes slightly at sight, eyes flickering down to the toe points of her classic onyx pumps. Ah, so she knows. Thankfully, Tina has boasted about what a quick study Gracie is.

The couple huffs out a simultaneous laugh when Gracie promises, "Colson, if you're a good boy, I'll get you the kids' meal at Big Belly Burger with the new Green Lantern toy."

Well, he does very much enjoy their specialty creamsicle flavored milkshake and classic Angus beef burger. Oliver links arms with Felicity, escorting her inside his old office. Luckily, the rain has died down to nothing, but a light drizzle. Felicity isn't bothered by the drops hitting her face. It's actually somewhat refreshing. The couple ventures down the hall, pausing at his empty desk. During his term as mayor, Oliver and Felicity have claimed to use his old office as more of a storage space. Well, in reality, that is partially true. Although, before Team Arrow's identities were revealed in the light of day, some of Oliver's administration found it rather strange that the twosome would make a trip there every Wednesday night and then some. Boxes of finished paperwork line the floors. However, there is still a clear path to an inconspicuous barren wall. Felicity pushes a button, revealing a retina scanner. She flips up her glasses.

A blue light maps out her peeper, Gideon recognizes, "Overwatch, identity confirmed."

"Green Arrow, identity confirmed." She also denotes as Oliver does the same.

With the world now aware of the people behind the masks and computers screens, Oliver and Felicity along with the rest of the team unanimously decided to beef up security measures around this place. The elevator doors appear from behind the wooden panel. It dings, and they hastily step inside, descending to the lair. It's definitely better than the revolving door, S.T.A.R Labs has. Although, Malcolm does still have a horrendously bad habit of popping right around the same time a huge shitstorm occurs in May.

With his fingers splayed out against the small of her back, Oliver questions, seemingly knowing the answer full-well, "So what did you leave in the bunker? Another charger?"

Felicity playfully jabs his bicep, "Why, Mr. Queen? I would never."

"Ow!" He feigns hurt, rubbing the spot, "Need I remind you of last Monday when we just had to head out here at midnight for your Q-Pad charger."

She threatens seriously, "You are so lucky it's your birthday, Queen."

"Noted." Her husband acknowledges, planting an apology kiss on her cheek, "So why are we really here?"

Shaking her hand, her voice drops to a seductive tone. Felicity slowly undoes the buttons on his beloved pea coat, "Oh, I think we both know why."

"Hmm..." A hum of desire rumbles low in his throat, demanding, "Tell me."

Her fingers flick open the topmost button of his sky blue dress shirt.

"How 'bout I do ya one better?" Her arms loop around his waist, "Want a sneak preview?"

He nods reverently, whispering harshly, "Hell yes."

Their lips reconvene in a searing kiss full of as much as desire as they've experienced in the car. Although, they could have their way with each other, and no one would be privy to their romantic rendezvous. Felicity ardently shoves her husband towards the elevator wall. A twinge of pain sparks at the back of his head, although as Felicity's teeth gently nip at his earlobe, doing that thing with her tongue he loves so much, Oliver couldn't care less at this moment. Her hips pin his against the railing. Felicity's mouth makes it descent from his ear to the side of his neck, sucking at one of his pulse point. That move alone causes him to emit a guttural groan. Oliver has to do something, anything. In fact, he wants nothing more to pick his wife up into his arms, and take her right then and there. But no, they need to take their time. Birthdays are always marked by slow lovemaking, multiple orgasms, and a sexy lap dance for both Oliver and Felicity. His hands slide down her long red coat, which covers way too much of his wife for his liking. Yet Oliver still manages to find her ample ass, cupping it softly before he gives both her cheeks a teasingly gentle squeeze. She whimpers, and her leg hooks around his hip, preparing to climb him like a tree. The doors dinging and sliding once more put their ministrations to a halt. They fully expect the lights to whir on per usual, but that isn't the case. The lights are already on, and their ears perk up to the familiar sound of fists pummeling the heavy bag with a series of hard jabs.

"John's here," Felicity figures, mouthing the words silently.

Oliver groans for an entirely different reason. They rapidly readjust their clothes, making themselves look decent. Indeed, the couple's eyes are met with a profusely sweaty shirtless John Thomas Diggle hitting the heavy bag as if it is Team Arrow's usual idiot of the week.

Adopting a false sense of cheeriness, Oliver greets, "Hey, buddy."

"Hey," Dig exhales, turning around to his friends, "I didn't expect you two to be here."

"We can say the same about you, John." Felicity responds through clenched teeth, forcing a smile.

John's forehead resembles an old washboard, "You okay, Felicity?"

"Peachy," she chimes.

"So?" His friend prompts, accusing, "What did you do wrong now?"

Dig flips off Oliver in an amused manner. God, John can't comprehend how good it feels for Oliver not be on the receiving end of that question. It's not an uncommon one, considering the Diggles' second child would be arriving into the world by November.

Licking his lips, Dig confesses, "I got the wrong chocolate ice cream."

"But chocolate is Lyla's favorite." Felicity recalls.

He informs, remembering what Lyla mentioned after the fact, "Lyla and J.J. wanted rocky road - not chocolate. She's... Well, I guess, I should say I haven't been her favorite person to be around lately."

"It's the hormones sneaking up on you, man. You know Lyla doesn't mean it."

Felicity pipes up, "You wanna talk about it?"

"Felicity," Her husband snipes, enunciating every single syllable of her name in that special way of his - just for her. It rolls off his tongue like a smooth red wine.

She mimics, "Oliver."

"That would actually be nice," John thinks aloud.

The trio strolls over to to the black leather loveseat and armchairs, where members of Team Arrow often take a moment's respite after a long day or hard training.

"Good." His friend notices, "Poor guy, you must be spent. Let me get you some coffee."

Dig quips, "And that's why I love her more than you, bro."

After brewing a fresh pot, Felicity returns back over to her boys with a hot cup of simple black coffee in a small green mug. Her lips tilt up slightly in a kind smile, offering her friend the drink. Oliver's much too focused on her stunning bare legs in that flowy short black skirt. From there, the retired Master sergeant spills his guts like an after school special. He voices his annoyance, concerns, and worries, but Oliver and Felicity tell him in six months, Sara will have a new baby brother. They promise to be there for both him and Lyla. Honestly, Dig can't wait to have this other little person into the world that's half him and half Lyla's. Glancing at his watch, it reads twenty past eleven A.M.

"I might as well pick up the right ice cream before lunch." Dig figures, throwing on his shirt and jacket before heading out.

"Hey, John." Oliver garners his attention, advising, "Call her first."

"So that way you won't make a mistake." Felicity adds, calling her out, "Say hi to Lyla, Sara, and J.J. for us."

"Roger that," Dig promises, not even looking behind him as he enters the elevator

"Finally." Oliver mentions, breathing a sigh of relief, "I thought he'd never leave. Now where we?"

With a hand raise, Felicity ceases his next move, "Hold up there, cowboy. We'd be breaking our birthday tradition."

"I don't mind." Dimples pool in her husband's cheeks.

She giggles at that, "No, I'm sure you don't. But you love the birthday dance."

"But I love you more, Felicity." He notes, practically begging, "I want you now."

"You have me always." She swears, leaving him with the perfect view of her backside as she walks over to the mini-fridge, "I have surprises for you."

"Well, that does sound promising."

The first surprise is a frosted cupcake.

"Oh, you baked?" He surmises, ringing his hands together as he laughs in hopes to conceal his displeasure. "Gee, I can't wait to try this."

With a hand atop her jutted out hip, Felicity promises, "Relax, Hon. I tried to bake, but my souffle didn't pan out. It caved faster than you around my mother."

"Oh, it's a banana muffin." Her husband notes, taking a huge bite, clicking his tongue, "The frosting is sweet. What is it?"

Sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck, his wife admits, "It was actually the inside filling of a twinkie from the gas station. I swear I had the perfect souffle planned, but our fancy oven hates me, and I didn't remember until last night. And you hate it."

"No, I don't." He denies, taking another bite, "I love it because it came from you, and I love you for trying."

"Really?" Felicity doubts, stepping closer.

"Really."

He finishes the muffin as a display of his sentiment. Oliver plants an ardent kiss to his mouth, teasingly dragging her finger across his lips. Felicity smears the remnants of twinkie filling. The second surprise isn't much of a surprise due to the fact Oliver and Felicity always show off their skills in a birthday lap dance. With the push of a button, Usher's smooth, silky vocals pulse through the ceiling speakers from the P.A. system. Oliver rubs her his hands together like a little boy on Christmas Day. He's itching to get his hands all over her.

As Oliver reaches for her, she warns, "Ah, ah, look and don't touch until I say so."

In actuality, Felicity's lap dance is more of a strip tease than a lap dance. Yet Oliver loves it nonetheless. Felicity turns her back to him, shrugging off her long maroon coat and letting it hit the floor unceremoniously. Oliver's fingertips dig into to the arm of the couch. With a tantalizing dip down low, Felicity gives him a blatant show of her red, lacy underwear, tugging her skirt down and taking it off with two strong pulls and a silly shimmy. A hand reaches the hem of her striped t-shirt, yanking it up and over and her head slowly. Her once smooth skin is littered with scars, though Oliver couldn't find her more beautiful than he does now. He intends to show her just how much in a matter of minutes.

"So sexy." Her husband whispers, gesturing with a 'come hither' finger wag, "Baby, c'mere."

To his surprise, she does so. Felicity pulls out her ponytail, sending her dyed blonde locks messily falling to her shoulders. Oliver follows up by unhooking her black and red bra, tossing the offending piece of fabric to the floor with the rest of his clothes. She rips open his shirt like Superman, buttons clattering by his feet. She mounts him, hovering off the perfect spot- his increasingly hard erection. Her hips grind against his at an unrushed pace. Her hardened nipples graze his pecs. Felicity flips back a curtain of hair. He grumbles something inaudible, cursing the fact his dress pants are so thin. However, Felicity just moves the way she wants, amping up their pleasure. They exchanges hot little pecks. His hand cups her ass, smacking it in a lovetap. Felicity whimpers in surprise, biting back a moan. If it was any other man, she'd kick his ass. But with Oliver, Felicity kind of likes that cocktail of pain and pleasure, understanding he'd never, ever take it too far. They wouldn't have gotten married, if Felicity didn't trust him His hand massages the cheek, alleviating the small sting. She was already growing wetter by feeling his hard, clothed member under her core. But when his mouth roots around to find a nipple, it's positively sinful.

"Oh!" Felicity keens, seeking purchase in his spiky blonde locks at the back of his head, "Yes, don't stop!"

He doesn't. His hand finds her neglected breast, squeezing it at the same pressure as his mouth. Wetness seeps down her core. The evidence of her arousal, staining her lace panties with a dark spot. She kneels in his lap, sliding them off as far as she can. Oliver picks her up, bringing her over to their cool round conference table. He jogs back, using her discarded clothes as a pillow for her back. Felicity's legs dangle off the edge of the table. Oliver loses all his clothes, faster than a fireman on duty. Though, he picks up on the fact that her heels are still on.  His stubble rasps at her skin, kissing down her right leg to remove the heel. He does the same to her left, causing Felicity to be this writhing mess of pure need and desire. His body blankets hers, and Oliver's hands cushion her lower back, leaving tender kisses until he stops at her pelvis.

"Felicity."

He utters her name like a litany that sneaks past his lips.

With a hand carding through his hair, she tells him, "Oliver, Honey you don't have to... _Oh_!"

Oliver knows he doesn't have to, but he wants to. He craves every single bit of her essence. He drags his tongue across her slit, and she lets out a broken gasp. She tastes rich, tangy, and just pure Felicity. Her moans fill the room, and God, he desperately wants more. He needs them to be louder. His long fingers stroke in her wet heat, letting Felicity adjust to the feel of him inside her. His fingers set a slow pace until she pushes at the back of his head, making an apparent show of where she really wants him. His mouth sucks on that stiffening little pearl, nursing it thoroughly. The combined sensation is what brings her over the edge in matter of a few more seconds. Her back flies up off the table against his mouth. Oliver pins her down with his hands. Giving her a moment's rest, Oliver caresses her thigh sweetly, placing kisses and tender love bites on her hips. When Felicity's erratic breathing slows, their eyes connect in a mitigated gaze. Their heartbeats drum against each other. Oliver's body rises off the table slightly, pulling his hips back until he thrusts home with practiced ease. He initially sets a slow rhythm, gently undulating in out and out. Felicity meets him with little thrusts of her own. Moans are muffled against one another's lips. She hikes up her legs, cradling him as she sends Oliver in even deeper. Her walls begin to deliciously pulse around him. With a few more thrusts, her arousal hotly coats his member.

"Felicity. Baby." Oliver groans, fighting to stave off his own pleasure.

A breathy whisper tickles his ear, "It's okay."

No, it's not. But, oh fucking God, her core feels perfectly snug against his cock, quivering on the precipice of release. Skin slaps against skin, and the table squeaks and creaks underneath their movements. A garbled version of her name sneaks past Oliver's lips as he spills out, filling her in long, hot spurts that started as a mere tingle at the base of his spine. He collapses over her, wanting to move. But Felicity doesn't let him. She loves the feel of his weight against hers. There's something so pure and protective about it. They couldn't get any closer. Despite that feeling, Oliver doesn't want to crush her He pulls out abruptly, causing them both to moan languidly at the sudden loss of sensation. When he finds the strength, regardless of his lethargic limbs, Oliver carries his wife over to his old army green cot. They spoon nakedly with a blue throw blanket over them. Their fingertips trace over one another's scars, committing each wound to memory.

Her husband murmurs over her lips, "I love you."

"I love you too. Happy birthday, Honey." She answers, cuddling against his chest.

Surprise number three is more for the Green Arrow than Oliver - new specialty net arrows designed by Overwatch of course. But he already has more than he feels he deserves, so that gift, this entire day is perfect in his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews and Kudos are appreciated.  
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